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Wretched feeling, sleep depravity.... rotting from within crude cavity.

Counting backward forward again, elusive slumber... 9.... 10...

The raven claws dig within, this empty soul drawing thin,

I can't recall so I simplify, use these notes to symbolize,

structured epic story fails, when placed against this face it pales.

Breathing in this poison air, I'm feeling weak under weight I bear.

Foundation slipping from below, the wing of this soulless crow.

Count again forward back; push away the rest I lack.

Maybe I’m simply delusional but I think you're beautiful.......